


Mother's Day

by nothingeverlost



Series: Storybrooke High [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 12:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21409957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: “Nick.”  Her smile faded as quickly as it had come, sliding into a frown.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was missing class today.  I made you worry, didn’t I?”
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: Storybrooke High [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/26801
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	Mother's Day

He didn’t worry when he didn’t see Belle for the first three periods of the day. Sometimes she stopped by before school, but there were days when she was caught up with her friends and he was glad she spent time with them. She wasn’t usually the first to class either, the English building where she had Lit before his class being across campus. It wasn’t until her friends all settled in, an empty desk next to the Lucas girl, that he started worrying.

“Miss Blanchard, I hope your friend has a good excuse for not being here today.” The bell signaling the start of class would ring any moment. Belle was never late.

“She’s not in school today, sir.” Mary Margaret glanced up from whatever she was doodling on her paper. 

“I hope whatever she has isn’t contagious.” He tried to sound gruff when what he really was was worried. He had spoken to Belle before bed and she’d sounded fine.

“She’ll be back on Monday. I said I’d take her any homework.” Ruby’s lips were pressed together, displeased about something. There was no way to question her further without sounding like something more than an annoyed teacher. He waited until they were working on their pop quiz before texting Belle. She didn’t answer.

“Miss Lucas, if you have a moment?” He pulled her aside after class, thankful for the excuse of the homework assignment. “Please let Miss French know that the quiz can’t be made up without a doctor’s note.”

“She’s not sick.” Ruby slipped the piece of paper into the folder she carried. “It’s Mother’s Day on Sunday.”

Fuck. He knew how hard it had been to lose her mother; he should have considered what this weekend would mean for her.

“Her dad…” Ruby’s eyes narrowed. Apparently he and the Lucas girl felt the same regard for Moe French. “It’s a really big weekend at the shop and her dad doesn’t handle it well. They can’t afford to not get the flowers out so she’s there. It would really suck if her grade took a hit because of one quiz, but she’s always doing extra work. It won’t hurt her, will it?”

“Unlike some in class her grade won’t be swayed by a few points.” He hid his knotted fist behind his back. He still had a thousand doubts about being the right person for Belle, but he was there for her, damn it. Ruby seemed content with his answer and left. Gold looked down at his phone for a moment, contemplating calling her. It was the start of his free period, giving him almost 2 hours before his first afternoon class. He could easily make it to the flower shop and back in half an hour. Forty-five if he stopped to get Belle something to eat.

“Belle?” Burgers weren’t the healthiest of foods, but she loved them so he’d picked up two, a mix of onion rings and fries, and one large chocolate shake. The bell above the door rang when he entered Game of Thorns, but the shop appeared empty.

“I’ll be with you in a moment.” The bland polite voice told him she hadn’t heard his voice, which was confirmed when she came out of the backroom. Her smile became more genuine, her eyes brightening.

“Nick.” Her smile faded as quickly as it had come, sliding into a frown. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was missing class today. I made you worry, didn’t I?”

“Your friend Ruby filled me in. She was worried about your ogre of a teacher docking your grade for an unexcused absence.” He always worried about her, but she would only feel bad if he told her that. The worry had only intensified since their brief break up and the knowledge that someone had scared her.

“She doesn’t know the ogre is really a teddy bear.” Apparently her father wasn’t in the shop at all, because she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

“The dragon happens to have a soft underbelly where one particular person is concerned,” he clarified before kissing her back, but not on the cheek. “I have a reputation to protect.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart. Someone might catch onto how many strays you feed behind the house, though. Or find you tutoring kids at the library.” She tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. “Your bark is far worse than your bite.”

“I’d be glad to show you biting, love.” He set the food on the counter next to the register and traced her neck suggestively. He had no trouble admitting to himself that he liked the idea of leaving a mark on her. Making it clear to the world that she was his. Mostly, though, he liked the way she blushed when he made the suggestion.

“It’s a good thing it’s lunch time if you’re that hungry.” She disappeared into the back and came out with a second chair. He tried not to think about other definitions of hunger, especially as they related to her. She had flowers tangled in her hair and he was reminded of an illustration of Persephone he’d seen once. It wasn’t a stretch to recognize the Hades in himself.

“I was worried you wouldn’t stop for lunch.” He sat across from her when she took the food out of the bag. He had bought a burger for himself mostly because he knew she was more likely to stop and eat if he did too. “No one else is here?”

“I have a sandwich in the cooler, and some iced tea. Dad doesn’t handle this weekend very well.”

“How are you handling it?” He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that Moe French didn’t handle anything well. Not his daughter’s birthday, or the basics of paying bills or doing his own damn job. And he certainly didn’t handle being a father.

“It’s better when I’m busy and not thinking about it too much. I like knowing that the flowers are all going to moms this weekend, and that they’ll make people smile. That’s my favorite part of the job.” She took a bite of her burger, chewing it more carefully than was warranted. “I always save enough flowers to take a bouquet to my mom after everyone comes to pick up their flowers.”

“Does your father go with you?” As much as he disliked Moe French he hoped the answer was yes. She didn’t need to stand at her mother’s grave alone on Mother’s Day.

“He tried a couple of years ago. I thought maybe after some time had passed it would be easier.” Belle picked up the top bun of her burger, piling on onion rings before returning the bun. “People handle things differently. I like talking to her. Dad sees it as a reminder she’s gone.”

“May I go with you?” For a flash of a moment he felt like he understood how Moe felt. If it was Belle lying under a stone would he be able to handle seeing the finality of it all? He pushed the thought away; it was too painful to imagine and it didn’t make his treatment of Belle acceptable. “Only if you want company. I could wait in the car if you prefer.”

“You don’t have to, I really am okay.” She shrugged, taking a bite of a french fry. Nick put down the hamburger that he’d mostly been ignoring. He reached out and covered her hand with his own.

“I want to be there with you, Belle. I want to listen to any story you want to tell me, and I want to take you home after and hold you. May I?” She’d spent enough Mother’s Days alone. He’d be damned if he let her be alone when he was able to be with her. When she walked around the counter and wrapped her arms around him he had his answer.

“Thank you Nick.” He held her for a minute and didn’t care that someone could walk in the door at any moment. Her cheek was damp with tears when she pulled away and he wiped them dry with the pads of his thumbs before gently nudging her away.

“Eat your lunch, love. Your fries are getting cold.”

II

“How can I help?” He showed up the next morning with two hot teas, bagels, and fruit salad. Moe’s car was once again missing from the parking lot and Belle was alone.

“What are you doing here?” Belle had her arms full of spools of ribbon.

“I have food, caffeine, and a pair of hands that should be reasonably capable of doing things. I’m not promising magic and you probably shouldn’t leave any arrangements up to me but I’m sure there’s something I can do.” He’d returned to the shop the night before and found her leaving a little after six. He was glad she’d let him take her out for dinner but she’d insisted on going home to check on her dad. His bed had felt particularly empty after he’d spent the afternoon thinking he might convince her to come home with him. 

Belle bit her lip, looking at him for a minute before speaking. “It would save me a lot of time if you watched the front. Almost everything is paid for already, it’s mostly just reading the cards and giving them to the right person. But it’s your weekend, Nick. Is this really what you want to be doing? I can’t imagine this is your favorite thing.

“You’re my favorite thing.” He pulled her closer, kissing her gently. Customer service was right next to personal secretary for Regina on his list of favorite jobs, but he’d do it if it meant making Belle’s weekend easier. “Show me your system, pet.”

It was seven hours of exhausting work in which he did his best to be nice to people and smile. His face hurt. His leg hurt. He kept hoping someone would complain just so he could stop being so pleasant but finally the last bouquet was picked up and Belle turned the sign to ‘closed.’

“Please tell me you don’t have to work tomorrow.” She looked exhausted; there hadn’t been time to even take a lunch break. They’d eaten bites of the pizza he’d had delivered between customers.

“No, the shop is closed tomorrow. And I promise I’ll be in class on Monday.” She popped open the cash register and started counting down the drawer. 

“Good, because I happen to know that your bastard of a science teacher won’t accept any more excuses.” He waited patiently until she finished counting, locking away the money and reaching to turn off the first light, before tugging her close.

“Come home with me tonight, love. Please?” There were dark smudges under her eyes. If she came home with him he could at least make sure she slept. He could talk her into a hot bath and make her something to eat. And he could hold her for hours if he wanted. 

“I want to say yes, but…” She stopped and shook her head. For a few seconds all he could hear was the sound of her slow breathing. “I can’t say no tonight, Nick. I’m going to be selfish and say yes.”

“You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, Belle.” He was relieved that he didn’t have to try and talk her into it.

The last thing Belle did was take the flowers meant for her mom out of the cooler. She took them with her as she locked the door and followed him to the car.

II

Breakfast wasn’t anything complicated, just eggs and toast. It took a frustrating amount of time to take it up the stairs, though, considering the mugs of tea and glasses of orange juice he didn’t want to spill, and the leg that was aching more than usual. His Belle, who had been sound asleep when he’d gone down to the kitchen, was now wandering his room in a t-shirt that barely skimmed her thighs. He was just in time to watch her bend over to inspect a book, and stayed as still as he could to watch her for a moment.

“It’s hard to serve you breakfast in bed when you’re not in bed.” He carried the tray over to the bedside table, glad to see he hadn’t sloshed any tea over the edge of the mugs.

“Good morning sweetheart.” Warm arms wrapped around his neck, her body pressed against his. He was tempted to ignore breakfast for a little while, to just touch her and make her forget everything else except him, but the eggs would get cold. For the moment his need to make sure she started the day with a good meal won out.

“You should have woken me, I could have helped. You made dinner last night. And ordered lunch, and brought me breakfast.” She’d fallen asleep on the sofa the night before while he’d been cooking. One minute she’d been explaining to him the difference between hard and soft water for cut flowers and the next she’d been curled up asleep. He’d woken her when he touched the scratch marks on her arm; a combination of thorns and the wire in the ribbons she used, she told him later when he rubbed them with an antiseptic.

“You needed your sleep, love.” She looked much better this morning, the dark circles gone and her eyes bright. “Besides, as your boyfriend it’s my job to spoil you.”

“You’ve never said that before.” The tea she’d been about to drink was forgotten as she stared at him.

“What, my plans to spoil you whenever possible?” It was ridiculous but he already had a Christmas present on order. He was also making summer holiday plans that were tentative until he knew if she could get away for a week or just a weekend. 

“Boyfriend.”

“It’s a strange word to apply to myself but there doesn’t seem to be any other.” He didn’t remember the last time anyone had used the word regarding himself. Certainly not Mal; their relationship wasn’t like that. He was used to hearing the word used to describe sixteen-year-old boys.

“It sounds so…”

“Weird?” he offered. The English language was lacking; he’d actually looked up other options but had found old fashioned nonsense like suitor, words like lover that only described one aspect of their relationship, or the word boyfriend.

“No. Like if you’re dating someone then there’s the stuff you do by yourself and then there’s the times you see this person. But if you’re boyfriend and girlfriend then everything is all tangled together and you’re a couple. Like when you talk to Mary Margaret you know that she and David share everything and if she invites you to a party he’ll be there. Like it’s real.”

“We are a couple, and this is very real.” And in three weeks and four days it didn’t matter who knew it. He could tell everyone that she was his girl. She could tell anyone too; he knew that carrying the secret was hard. “I love you Belle.”

She set her mug down next to a plate of eggs. For a moment he was afraid that he’d said the wrong thing, gotten too serious, but then he found himself with a lap full of Belle. “I love you too.”

“Breakfast,” he half heartedly protested when she tugged at the bottom of his shirt. He’d slept only in pajama bottoms but had decided that it was better to cook without so much exposed skin.

“It will still be there after.” Changing tacks Belle took off her own shirt, or rather the shirt he’d loaned her the night before. He’d considered buying pajamas to keep for the nights he convinced her to stay, but he enjoyed looking at her in his own clothes better. It was a bonus that they smelled like her.

“After,” he agreed, tossing his shirt on the floor as well. 

II

“Hey mom, there’s someone I want you to meet.” The cemetery was relatively quiet as Belle followed a well remembered path. Colette French was buried under a willow tree. Nick took in the dates, the last one a little more than seven years ago. Belle would have been eleven. When she laid the flowers against the stone only the name was visible. 

“His name’s Nick, mom, and I love him.” She held his hand and leaned against his shoulder.

An hour later, after half a dozen stories and a little weeding they left together in his car. She had homework to catch up on, and used his desk, stopping to drink the tea he made her. Afterwards they made dinner together, and took the time to watch a movie before he drove her home.

On Monday she stopped by his classroom before school, just to let him know that she was there. She was smiling.


End file.
